


With Tender Interest,

by PetulanceWaltz



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, Communication Failure, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Minor Injuries, Mountains of fluff, helmet party
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 02:17:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8779231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetulanceWaltz/pseuds/PetulanceWaltz
Summary: I’ll discover your brilliance.-His goal would be to learn about Soldier, even if it made him uncomfortable.Even if he didn’t particularly want to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I may go in and edit this if I need to or forgot to add something. The first chapter feels a bit short to me but with how I planned it out this one just ended up being that way.  
> Anyway, Helmet Party is one of my favorite ships in TF2, so I couldn't help writing a small little fic for it.  
> -  
> Disclaimer: I do NOT own Team Fortress 2 or any of the characters used in this work. I only own the writing.

Dell had always considered himself a patient man, putting up with many things he knew he probably shouldn’t. For instance, the way Pyro would throw tantrums and incinerate stacks of tediously sketched blue prints. Or how Demoman outwardly chastised him for ‘hiding behind’ his machines. It was a little more than hypocritical, what with Demoman taking shelter behind alcohol rather than facing his problems. But Dell said nothing. He never poked fun.

As much as his blood absolutely boiled in his veins, Dell refused to do much other than shove or simply wait for whoever was giving him a hard time to grow bored and leave. Scout was the easiest to deter this way since he had the attention span of a squirrel, though Scout rarely ever bothered Dell to an outrageous extent. No, the title of ‘nuisance’ was reserved solely for Pyro, Demoman, and…

Soldier.

Dell’s eyes flickered upwards to the bulky man sitting across from him at his worktable, silently watching as the Texan fiddled with the stray wires of a small gadget he’d built to pass the time. Soldier was as quiet as a church mouse, his lips quirking and his head tilting ever so slightly when Dell would pull out a tool he’d most likely never seen nor heard of before. Dell looked up a little more, snorting at the ridiculous hunched over position Soldier chose to use so he could lean farther across the table and idly slide parts to Dell. Whether Dell needed those specific parts or not was up for debate, but Dell acted like he had use for them anyway.

The first time Soldier had done this he was keen to pompously shoo the giant puppy of a man out of his workspace, warning Soldier not to hang around his creations lest he break them. It was around that time that Dell decided not to talk back or return cruel jokes, his iron will wavering under the intense, hurt expression shining past the lip of Soldier’s helmet. The expression wasn’t tearful, rather it’d been… hollow. Lost. Dell knew it’d haunt him for the rest of his life. As a result, Soldier had won himself a spot on Dell’s list of little annoyances.

Another random piece of metal slid deftly over the counter top towards him.  Dell picked it up, regarded it with false interest, then nodded and stuffed it into his overall pocket. He heard Soldier shift again.  The expression was not one he’d ever imagine Soldier would be able to muster. He couldn’t figure out why it’d sent waves of electricity down his spine, seeing Soldier give in and admit some kind of personal weakness just by swallowing Dell whole with his boundless arctic blues. The look was dominating, cancelling out all other emotion Dell might’ve felt, and he honestly wasn’t surprised that every essence given off by the other man was so overpowering. Though, for every little defense Soldier boasted and flaunted with his deep commanding voice, or his rigid posture, there were weak spots he’d present to Dell in the most discreet way possible; metaphorically rolling over to hint at something that was, so far, eluding Dell’s understanding.

Soldier grunted and stood up, leaving the room as quietly as he’d entered.

A long sigh rushed out of Dell’s lungs. He pulled open a nearby drawer and stuffed the gadget into it, slamming it shut with a scowl. The Engineer of the RED team, a man with eleven PHD’s and a wealth of knowledge granting him the ability to build magnificent structures with frightening accuracy, could not properly analyze the enigma that had been sitting across from him mere seconds ago. Soldier was annoying. Soldier was _frustrating._ Dell removed his goggles and threw them across the room, observing with satisfaction how they collided with a neat pile of boxes, sending them tumbling down into a heap, their hefty contents spilling out and clattering all over the floor. Dust particles floated about, tossed up by the commotion. The familiar musky smell of his workspace combined with the fumes of oil did well to soothe him, lulling him back into a state of calm.

Soldier was insane. Dell was a genius. There _was_ nothing to figure out. This uncomfortable routine would break itself off at the source once Soldier found something better to do with his time than ‘help’ Dell with projects. Inevitably a sense of regret soon had him in a choke hold, wrapping around his windpipe with intangible, searing fingers that bore into his skin and gave him goosebumps. When he was a young boy, Dell’s grandfather and parents rarely allowed him near anyone ‘different’. They prided their son’s sheer intelligence, and feared, to an utterly unreasonable level, that Dell might ‘catch stupid’ if he hung around those who were deficient. Dell didn’t care to understand then. All he focused on at that age was mentoring under his grandfather and going to school to learn, and learn, and learn some more.

Now, his goal would be to learn about Soldier, even if it made him uncomfortable. Even if he didn’t particularly want to. Dell shot a fleeting glance at the mess he’d made before leaving his workspace, trudging tiredly to his room. The majority of the other men were already tucked in for the night, Dell noted, hearing Scout’s obnoxious snoring farther down the hallway. Scout’s snoring aside; noises filed the night air in a chorus of languid murmurings. Cricket chirps, the howling of the wind outside of the base, and the faint hum from the aging light fixtures robbed the building of silence. These sounds were like family to Dell, having spent years listening to them.

Turning the doorknob and pushing into his room, Dell scanned his meager belongings, spotting some of them out of place or gone altogether. Before he had a chance to grow suspicious the door slammed shut behind him and two sturdy arms shoved him down onto his bed. Those intense arctic blues glinted mere inches away from his face, a tannish-brown helmet falling off onto the pillow beside his head.

Dell’s brows knit together, unable to look away from Soldier who was pinning him down shakily. Soldier was shaking. It barely registered in his mind that there were tiny beaded tears hiding in the corners of Soldier’s eyes, his mouth forming words out of angered surprise rather than rational deduction.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“You think I’m stupid.” Soldier’s hushed, gravelly response cut straight into Dell’s chest. 

“Everyone thinks you’re stupid, son. My opinion hardly matters.”

Without the helmet obscuring half of Soldier’s face, Dell could easily read every detail in startling clarity. The way his eyes crinkle from phantom pain and his fingers curl around Dell’s wrists in a desperate hold. The unsteady rise and fall of his heaving chest, and the subtle, anxious grinding his jaw was doing. Soldier sat back, releasing his hold on Dell as he pulled away slowly. Dell eagerly sat up to follow him, not willing to let Soldier escape from him that easily.

“It doesn’t matter.” Dell insisted, brushing his thumb along Soldier’s cheekbone. “You’re smart in your own way, I’m sure.” Soldier shook his head.

“I am _not_ doubting myself.” He roughly slapped Dell’s hand away from his face. “That’s not my point. Smart people like other smart people.” The force behind his words left no room for debate. Yes, it was true that intellects sought out the company and companionship of a mind that could keep up with them. Engineer was still lost on how or why the topic of one’s computing capabilities meant so damn much to the mercenary sitting across from him on his bed.

“You’re wrong.” Dell countered, lying feebly.

The mattress creaked as Soldier shifted to stand, pointing to his helmet still resting on Dell’s pillow. Dell handed it back to him, despising how it concealed Soldier’s eyes as it swayed and bobbed in time with his footsteps. He wanted to see more, and to feel more. Dell wanted to feel the stubble on Soldier’s jaw and satisfy the questions bouncing around in his skull, but made no move to stop Soldier and bug him for answers. Both men were too tired, on edge, and sick of themselves to muster the energy needed to continue their borderline argument over a subject neither of them could properly convey.  

 

The next morning Dell found the boxes neatly stacked up in their rightful places, no longer a mess sprawled out on his workshop floor.


End file.
